Wordless Wednesday

Perhaps not entirely appropriate, but an activity not unknown to cattlemen and livesock producers the world over.  Although the inter-species twist is rather interesting...  What is better than a bacon cheeseburger?  TWO BACON CHEESEBURGERS!  I had to.  I am so sorry. 

Texas-isms

"Texas, our Texas, All hail the mighty State. Texas, our Texas
So wonderful, so great!" -State Anthem

The Great State of Texas, as it is known to its habitants, or Texas, as it is known to everyone else, has many things to be proud of. It is the largest of the lower 48 states. It was once its own country, and it has its very own brand of rough, tough, real-stuff, god-fearing, Yankee-disliking folk. Most are German. Or Czech. It has one of the best food genres ever created: Tex-Mex. Who doesn't love a good burrito? It's home to NASA, the American Quarter Horse Association, the Rio Grande, the Guadalupe Mountains, Live Oaks, Copperheads and Water Moccasins, Scorpions, Cacti, Texas-sized Rats, Roaches and Rattlers, as well as many a Texas-Shaped waffle iron. The people are as diverse as the environment, and the state is so huge that it even has two distinct dialects: A West Texas Drawl and an East Texas Twang. It has taken a while, but I have finally figured out the difference and can place a person based on their accent now. It's a skill, believe me.

Bluebonnets. I think they're weeds, but I would never tell
a Texan that. Liable to get hanged, them's fightin' words.

Being such a large and special state, Texas has developed its own words and interpretations of words. It's fascinating to have a conversation with a Texan. All they talk about is Texas and Texas things, and then they go and put Texas words in there while they're talking about Texas and Texas things, and before too long the out-of-stater is completely baffled. So, if any of you will be visiting the Great State of Texas in the near future, make sure you look out for these words and phrases:

· Howdy: Do not be alarmed. This is a friendly greeting all over the state, but it is used in the most concentration in the areas around College Station, where the Aggies grow. Return it, wave, or nod to acknowledge their greeting, or they will tag you as a Northerner for sure. 

· Restroom: If you are a Canadian, never use the word "Washroom". You will promptly be given a quizzical look and directed to the nearest Laundro-mat. It's a restroom, though I haven't the slightest idea as to why- I have never used it to rest. Ever.

Snakes. Everywhere.

· Fixin': This is a word used to indicate the intention or current action of an individual. Rarely is it used in the normal context of, "I am fixin' the sink." Rather, its most common use is, "I was fixin' to head on out to the Wal-Mart, if ya need anythin'." Or, "I am fixin' yer dinner, ya flea-bitten lout, now git off yer butt and git yer own cool beverage!"

· Might-could: As odd as this phrase is, it is actually used now and again, especially in a rural area. It means, "You may be able to..." as in, "I might-could go dancing tonight, if mah truck will start."

· Awhalgo or Whalgo (Ah-Wall-Go or Wall-Go): Literally a brand new conjunction for the phrase, "A While Ago." This one will get you every time, guys. Be prepared for it, they all say it, none of them notice it.

I wasn't kidding. These are everywhere, too.

· Uh-Huh: While we northerners prefer real words in affirmation of our recent verbal outpourings, in Texas a simple "uh-huh" will suffice. It is quick. It is lazy. It is so easy to fall into, you won't be here a week before you, too, start saying it with gusto. Proper usage is key, so make sure you aren't sticking it in every sentence like a madman.

· Turd-Floater: A rain so hard that the poops in the pastures float away. It happens.

· Bless their Heart: You can say any number of nasty, horrible, gossipy, not-very-nice things about pretty much anyone so long as you premise it with "Bless their Heart." Useful when talking to people who are friends with someone you strongly dislike.

· Y'all: Perhaps the single most-used conjunction in the entire state, y'all literally means "You All." Texans use this for everything, from greetings to threats. They might double up and say "All y'all," which means, as you can only imagine, "all you all." While it makes northerners cringe, it is again one of those words that can so easily slip into one's vocabulary. I am now a regular Y'all-er, though to my knowledge I have never said "all y'all," at least not yet.

Well, that is a crash course in Texanisms. I hope you find it useful and informative. NOTE: This is NOT a comprehensive list of Texas Talk. I am not liable for any misunderstandings.

Have a good day, y'all!

I Wanna Go Home

Beautiful prairie near Indus, Alberta. Home.

"I wanna go home, I wanna go home, Ohhh how I want to go home..."- Bobby Bear
It appears it's that time in this semester. The prospect of home is only a week and a half away. I love Texas, I don't really want to leave my new friends, acquaintances, my new bros or brahs. I am not looking forward to a few more weeks of rainy, cool Alberta spring weather once I do land in Calgary. But oh, how I am ready to go home.

The Tex-Mex will be sorely missed

Until you move away, I guess it's hard to  understand how good you have it at home. Free food, at a real dinner table, with your immediate family. A comfortable, also free, bed to sleep on in a room of the house all to yourself, a room that is always at a comfortable, stable temperature. People who know you and understand you and yell at you all the time. You know, that mental image of home that everyone who has left has. I want it back.

Oddly, I miss seeing our nice red CP & CN locomotives

I would like to think that there are few things that make the prospect of home so exciting. One is my family and all the squabbles and conversations and laughs that come with living in the same house. Another is the sheer familiarity of everything: I don't need a map or a GPS to find the next town over, I probably know who just drove by and waved, I never need to actually stop and use the sun or wind to tell me which direction I am headed. Another still is the prospect of getting the hell out of this city. I am certainly never going to be a city dweller, not even a small city like College Station, Texas. The constant noise, the never ending sirens and yells and horns and motorcycles and trains and PEOPLE. People everywhere, all the time. Eating with new people. Walking with new people. Peeing beside a different person in the same bathroom every time I use it. I know none of them (especially the random dude in the washroom-that's a no talking zone), and I never will. I need wide open spaces every now and again, as in a population density of less than two people per square mile.

I will miss the Lone Star State- Especially the accents

The city is a good place to be from, and a swell place to visit. It's fun, and fast, and loud, and it has variety. But it certainly isn't for me for long periods of time, and I am just about to the end of that line. I miss my cattle, I miss my dog, I miss highway driving for hours and hours and not seeing anything other crops. I miss Degrees Celsius (I'll have to adjust back to that), kilometres per hour (that too), kilograms and litres of fuel.

Home

But, having said all of that, I am beginning to panic a little at the prospect of going home. We have a noted absence of Tex-Mex food in Alberta, we don't know what a crawfish boil is, there is no such thing as sweet tea and very few really good pecan-anythings. We drive slower, we talk faster, and we don't, generally, even know what Aggieland is or how to get there. So, as the saying goes, I wasn't born in Texas, but I certainly got here as fast as I could. I'll be loading up on Spanish rice, refried beans and burritos (Please pray for my roommate during this smelly time), drinking gallons of real ice tea, and trying to smuggle a whole suitcase of of pecan tarts across the border for summertime enjoyment. I love Texas, but for now I love Alberta more, and I am ready to be Alberta Bound. I am sure that by the time the summer is nearing it's end I'll be singing, "I can't see Texas from here, I can't see Texas from here, no matter how I try-y-y it makes me want to die-y-y, so if you see me looking down I'm tryin' not to show this frown..." -George Strait But I'll be back, Mr. Strait, I'll be back.

Child Labour

So, the US government is poised to make a monumental mistake. The Obama Administration is pushing a bill through Congress that will make child labour on family farms illegal. Individuals under 18 years of age could not work for recompense in places like grain elevators, auction markets, livestock exchanges, feed yards, grain silos, grain bins, etc. First off, the level of government intrusion here is massive. It is my own opinion that the government has no authority over what children can or cannot do for their families in regard to rural lifestyles. This bill passes all boundaries of privacy for rural, hard working Americans, and goes to the level of telling an Auction Mart operator his son or daughter cannot work pens or clerk a sale until they are a legal age.

Rosie Templeton, of The Absolutely Agriculture Blog,
 doing work that may become illegal in the USA.
http://www.realagriculture.com/2011/06/does-4-h
-desensitize-kids-to-killing-a-4-h-alumnis-response/

This is a prime example of how urban, modern politicians simply do not understand the lives of rural constituents. It makes it very obvious that the American governmental machine is forgetting its rural routes, forgetting the demographic that provides nourishment to the people of the nation. A bill such as this was never even dreamed of in decades past, when the farming family was a picture of success. Farming is not a two-person endeavour. It is simply not possible to make money with only spouses participating, so children are put to work when they reach an age that is deemed appropriate by their parents. Most rural kids start to help when they are around 12 or 13, respectable ages for an education in work ethic, business practices, and the workings of a farm or ranch.
The next part of the rebound from this bill is the kids themselves. Many rural kids have started to tell the government that this bill is ludicrous at best. They claim that the education they received from their parents often was more practical and useful than what they learned in school. The emphasis placed on work ethic is what has allowed kids like myself to get where we are: in colleges and universities across the continent, learning every occupation under the sun. Our farm education, from working for Mom and Dad, is absolutely irreplaceable. But that seems to be exactly what the US Obama Administration seeks to do.  

Calvin and Hobbes on Eating

I felt that this was a relevant comic to yesterday's article:

Tell "The Times" Why it's Ethical to Eat Meat!

The New York Times, a renowned news source all over the world, is asking for submissions. The question they have posed is a difficult one. One that I have never considered. One that I feel I have the answer to, but have no way of communicating my feelings logically. "Why is it ethical to eat meat?" It's a doozy of a question, that's for sure. The arguments against eating meat based on ethics are incredibly strong, and, I must admit, make certain amounts of logical sense. But there must be some reason why we eat meat. Something way down tells us that the activity is OK, and I have never questioned my moral integrity after tucking in to a beautiful New York or Tenderloin. Why? I don't know. It isn't taste, which does keep me coming back, it isn't the need for meat, though I do have cravings here in University. Why don't we feel the same remorse for the animals we consume as we feel for the people we may kill in wars? It is definitely a troubling question, very troubling and difficult to answer. If you think you have it, I encourage you to submit it to The Times for evaluation. I know I will if I have my epiphany by the deadline. It appears that the Pro-Meat arguments are only just beginning, after at least three decades of pro-vegetarian hounding.  So, I ask you all to please comment with your thoughts, and visit the link to read the article from The Times. Tell Us Why It's Ethical To Eat Meat

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/25/magazine/tell-us-why-its-ethical-to-eat-meat-a-contest.html?_r=2

The End of the Whirlwind

I can't believe it's been nearly three weeks since I blogged about the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo and the International Livestock Congress. I guess time flies when you are having the time of your life! These last ten days have been a whirlwind. I want to recap with you all the events of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.

Beginning with Wednesday, March 7th, those five days are as follows:

The best interns came from A&M, of course...

Early Wednesday morning headed into Houston, only to arrive bang on at rush hour. Poor planning and no forethought aside, rush hour turns Houston's 610 beltloop freeway into a never ending parking lot. No joke, ladies and gents, it took nigh on 2 hours to go the 14 miles I needed to traverse before I got to my exit. And there was no sign of the reason for the delay. None. That’s a pain right there. Anyway, after I extracted Christine (Dad named my truck) and myself from the freeway fray, I unerringly found my way both to my downtown Houston Hotel accommodations AND to Reliant Centre, where the HLSR was under full swing. I say unerringly, but I had some help from Nuvi (I named my GPS). She yelled and hollered and barked orders for the entire trip, but she and I made it all the way, together. So I arrive at the rodeo grounds, find the Superintendent’s office, and meet my fellow interns. There were six of us altogether, four from Texas A&M and two from that other school: Texas Tech. We eyed each other warily for a bit but essentially each school found the other to have sent reputable individuals, so it was quickly down to work. The first thing we did was check the entries for errors or grounds for disqualifications. Sounds like a not bad job, easy, quick, right? Nope. Wrong. While there were six of us interns, there were 2000 heifer entries. That’s a whole damn bunch of little names, little tattoos and little birthdates on a spreadsheet being compared and contrasted with names, tattoos and birthdates on each entry's registration paper. I had a headache and sore eyes when I finally turned the last page of the Simbrah papers and declared myself finished. It only could go up from here, I thought. I was wrong.

They sent us back to the hotel around five pm on Wednesday afternoon, to freshen up, nap and eat. We were given an address before we left and we were told to be there at ten pm Wednesday night to begin the staging of trailers for unloading. Dutifully, we arrived at the given coordinates to find an astonishing sight. Trailers lined up 20 deep and six or seven rows across, in a wide open gravel parking lot in the middle of nowhere. One of the superintendents took three of us interns, one of which was me, gave us a green card and an orange card, both of which needed to be written on by us, and instructed us to visit each truck, in order, and give them a green and orange card. This didn't sound so daunting at first. We started at around ten pm, six or seven rows of approximately 20 trailers was around a hundred and forty vehicles, divided by three was 46.6 trailers each. Nothing, really. Again, I was wrong. Those trailers were only the first bunch, and were soon followed by hundreds more. Each needed two cards, and by now we had lost the young lady we were working with, so it was only two interns. We did get some moderate help from a group of volunteers, but until they figured out the pattern they more of a hindrance than a help. Finally, the last trailer pulled out at around three pm Thursday. That means that the other intern and I had walked for seventeen hours, and I had been wide awake for almost 36 hours. My feet had been reduced to bloody stumps, there were holes in the bottoms of my shoes, and I was covered, head to toe, in a fine talcum of gravel dust. It was awesome.

If I remember correctly, we finally were allowed to sleep at about 8 Thursday night, and by god, sleep we did. It was an early morning though, up at 5:30 to get to the grounds through traffic by seven. Friday started the shows proper, and I started the day in the office dealing with all manner of problems and concerns from the FFA, 4-H leaders, and Parents of the juniors. I never once talked to an irate or upset Junior member. Considering that there was around 2000 of them, that’s pretty damn impressive. And the parents just need to calm down. It'll all be OK! Typically the kids knew what was going on and how to deal with problems better than I did. I couldn't take much more of being some east Texas Mother's emotional punching bag, so I jumped on the chance to escape into the showring. The first show I was a ringman for was the American Registered breed show, or the All Other Breeds with Brahman Influence. Lots of odd looking cattle in that show, good in their own right, but weird looking to me. Next was the largest show, the Beefmasters. 47 entries in the first class was a lot of cattle to keep moving and organized. Over Saturday and Sunday, I ringed six more breed shows and the Supreme Champion show. I walked all over both rings, which were covered in bright green shavings. These shavings dyed everything The bottoms of my boots, the cuffs of my pants, the corners of my eyes, and other more unpleasant places like the insides of my ears and nose... I was a leprechaun from the inside out.

In short, however, it was a fantastic five days, I made awesome contacts, had a lot of fun, and saw some pretty fantastic cattle. Would I do it again? Most certainly!